Irina's teeth sank into his neck, her mind a whirlwind of sensations—heat, adrenaline, and a strange, intoxicating sweetness that filled her senses. For a fleeting moment, she reveled in the taste, the peculiar blend of lavender and salt that seemed to permeate his very being. But then, like a spark catching on dry tinder, another thought ignited in her mind.
A memory.
It hit her like a gust of wind, dragging her out of the moment and into a vivid scene she thought she had buried deep.
That time.
Irina's heart pounded as the image flashed before her—Maya, her fangs buried in Astron's neck, drinking deeply as though she owned him. Irina had been there, her body still and breath shallow, pretending to be unconscious. She had heard every word, seen every moment.